wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart
by empresslanfan
Summary: three times mayu looks back and one time she doesn't.


So I wrote this before knowing that Mayu has actually been with gods before Yato. But….I…don't….care…I GUESS THIS IS AN AU.

Anyway, I ship this even though we have like zero information on their relationship aside from like, the first chapter and the fact that Mayu obviously cares about Yato a lot since she helped with the purification ritual.

BUT PFFT I DON'T CARE HELL YEAH.

* * *

o1.

Yato finds her for the first time tucked into the cracks of a subway station sidewalk. Barely more than a dandelion strand floating through the stale afternoon air, he cradles her and slowly watches as she brightens under his grip, a beacon that forces him to squint his already hooded eyes. He spends an extra minute muttering under his breath, crossing off names in a mad tandem in his head. She vibrates, almost angrily if Yato didn't know any better, until she nearly floats off with the breeze.

"Knew it; you're gonna be a pain. At least you're pretty, Tomo," he laughs to himself, quietly, and it is the first words she hears as she is reborn, her memories ripped from her heart to etch scars into his neck. And when she emerges, all long limbs and feminine grace, she thinks she sees him wipe a tear from his eye.

"Thy name is Tomone, thy vessel is Han, sacred treasure Hanki," he says and takes her hand, watching as she wraps the white robe around herself tightly. Her eyes are wide and afraid, only for a moment, before pushing his hand away.

"What the hell?"

His smile drops before standing up, resting his hands on his hips. "I'm Yato, your master," he growls, pointing roughly at his face. "You're going to serve as my shinki. Pretty sweet, right?"

She – Tomone – clears her throat with careful experimentation. "Pretty sweaty."

He falters and she takes the opportunity to test out her laugh, each shrill cackle a welcomed respite from the dim silence she'd been floating in like an embryo.

"And if I say no?"

"No? What—I'm going to have a shrine! The biggest shrine in Japan—where are you going?!"

She turns back, bright eyes narrowed, her own hands on her hips in a mimicked pose. "Aren't we going to your house? I'm freezing."

o2.

The first time they get a job, it is almost like waking up again after a kind dream, hearing a song again after years of absence. It is nearly beautiful: she is barely more than a pocket knife, sharp and stable, tucked into his palms as he stabs a spirit through the spine, bright lights flashing across the street way.

And the boy, small enough to still be in middle school, legs dangling on his balcony, weeps with relief.

The peace lasts a moment.

"Oh god," he moans, clutching his hair. "What do I do now, oh god, what can I do now—"

Let go of me. Tomone whispers it into his mind, voice already sounding annoyed at the feeling of his sweaty hands against the hilt of her blade. He rolls his eyes and releases her, watching as she manifests with a slow shiver, her scarf coiffed around her neck.

"Don't be rash," she shouts from the first floor, hands cupped around her mouth. "Things will be different now!"

"Liar," he gurgles, mouth bubbling over with saliva as he heaves, closing his eyes and feeling himself sway forward. "You're a fucking liar!"

"If you still want to die, do it," Yato snaps, wiping blood from his forehead. Tomone gasps, hand whipping out to slap him roughly across the face. It is not the first time he has said this, one time or another, and it boils her blood in a way she can't stand.

"What? I killed the thing and he's still sitting there. If he can't accept help, I can't help him. Plus, he was rude to you."

"We have to do something," she growls, eyes fierce. He watches her for a moment, eyes calculating, darting across her face to glance briefly at the firm set of her lips. "Anything."

"Anything? Fine." He grabs her hands, ignoring her noise of protest, and presses them together. "Time to learn something new."

And he summons her with her true name, his grip on her hand curling to accommodate the edge of a blade, before flipping it to point directly at the boy who is trembling above them, small and huddled.

"Tomone, I need you to concentrate. I want you to look past his body and focus on memories. Memories of his classmates, memories of the bullying, all of it. They'll look like strings; I want you to cut each one you see, carefully alright?"

What? Shouldn't I practice first?

"Don't move," he tells the boy who watches him, silent, head cocked as he tries to read Yato's lips.

Yato, I don't know if I can do this! Yato!

"Quit complaining and try it," he cajoles, almost gentle. "I trust you."

And without a moment of hesitation, Yato jumps and plunges the knife into the boy's chest, watching as he slides past him even as he screams loudly.

He lands on the balcony terrace with feline grace, watching as the boy tumbles backwards onto the floor. Yato laughs quietly as the boy clutches his chest, searching for a bleeding wound.

"W-What the—what did you do to me?!"

"I gave you a blank slate," he polishes Tomone's blade absently with his sleeve. She makes a gagging noise in his head and he scowls, throwing her in the air and looking away as she materializes beside him. "They can't bully you anymore because you'll be an outsider. Start over again; make things work by yourself."

The boy watches, wide eyed, still clutching at the front of his oversized shirt. Tomone does not look at him but at the long times of Yato's face, almost maternal, as he gives the boy a quick thumbs up.

"Thank you for the five yen! Don't forget, Yato the delivery god is always here to help!" And before the boy can respond from his stupor, Yato grabs Tomone hand and disappears.

"I could've killed him," she shrieks, slamming her pillow into Yato's face. They sit in an abandoned shrine, illuminated only by moonlight, voices echoing in the empty space.

"But you didn't!"

"That's not the point," she shouts, eyes gleaming blue in the dim light. He watches her movements warily, hands half-lifted to swat away her next attack. Instead, her lip quivers.

"T-Tomone don't—jeez, don't cry. I did it because I trusted you, okay? I knew you could do it."

She wipes her eyes quickly, tears catching on the sleeves of the beautiful kimono they had found for her one day, tossed out by a rich woman in need of a new wardrobe. He had presented it to her with an air of formality, almost ridiculous as he got on one knee to present it to her. Her smile had been worth it, at the time.

Now he hurries to her and pats her head absently, smiling as she glances up, startled.

"Good, look at me," he whispers, running lithe fingers through her hair. "You did good, okay? You helped him; that's what you wanted right?"

"Yeah," she nods quietly and allows her forehead to press against his chest for a brief moment before pulling away, straightening her back.

"I'm going to bed," she announces to no one in particular, slipping off her shoes to enter the shrine and sleep on the wooden floors.

Yato smiles warily and returns to his position on the floor, not catching her eyes wander back as she walks away.

o3.

The first time they sleep together, it is after she's met Kofuku. The pink haired girl launches himself at Yato, placing kisses all over his cheeks, out-stretching a hand and introducing himself as his girlfriend. A bone in Tomone's jaw reworks before her realizing it and soon, she is grouchy for the rest of the evening, even when her actual partner slaps Yato out of Kofuku's grip.

The rest of the evening she watches him wince, hand occasionally fluttering over the back of his neck before slamming back down on his lip in a visible version of self-restraint.

When they get home for the night, he slams the door closed and turns back to Tomone.

"Okay, what's wrong with you? You've been annoying me the entire day."

"Me? Nothing's wrong with me," she says, slipping out of her shoes with detached ease, smoothing over her robes. "And you're an asshole."

"I've been getting stabbed the entire evening," he says, grabbing her wrist so she can't walk away. "Every time you have a sinful thought, it hurts me, you know. I feel it all; there's a connection."

Her heart jolts and it makes her scowl even more, pushing him away. "I've never felt anything like that."

"It's one way," he says, not budging. "I'm your master and you should respect me enough to tell me what the problem is!"

"Please," she snaps, grabbing his wrist and twisting. He jumps back with a yelp, rubbing at the offending limp. She throws her head back, eyes fierce. "I don't need this."

"If you're going to be angry at me, at least have a reason."

"You're infuriating," she fumes, jabbing a finger in his direction. "Watching you today was borderline obscene."

Yato stares at her, wide-eyed, before letting a smooth, wide grin stretch across his face. The sight of it just makes her blush, red creeping up her neck and ears.

"You were jealous of Kofuku. Was it Daikoku?"

She is left sputtering, desperately grasping for control of the conversation. Best to flee. "W-What? No! I'm going to bed."

"Then was it me?"

She freezes, already bolting out of the room, and turns around. He is standing close, smile gone, gently reaching a hand to brush her hair out of her cheek. He winces as her eyes roam over his lips, and the smile is back.

"Tomone," he says quietly and she shakes a little under his grip, knowing that each thought she has is a stab in his chest, in his arms, in his eyes. "It doesn't hurt, I promise."

And then he kisses her, barely more than a feather touch, and they lower themselves to the floor and take root in the stable feeling of the floor beneath them, solid under their weight. He leans over there, the pad of his thumb rubbing across her cheek, his other hand gently undoing the ties of her robe. His hand cups her breast, exploring the smooth skin he had only seen in glimpses across the room as they got ready for the day. She shudders under his grip and hooks her leg over his, letting him pull her onto his lap with a hand to her rear.

She touches the back of his neck and under her fingertips is rough rippled skin, nearly black. She pulls away, eyes wide. "I'm sorry," she says and she sounds so small that he brings her to him once more, cradling her in his arms.

"What did I say before? Stop being so stubborn," he reprimands and they sit there for a long time, pressed against each other, quiet and still.

o4.

The day Yato breaks their contract as per her request, Tomone grins like a maniac and nearly skips away. He rolls his eyes but doesn't reach for her, simply letting his arms hang limply on his sides in a sort of grim determination. She walks upright, head high, all the way to the other side of the town before finally slumping forward, letting out the breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"I did it," she says quietly, muscles rolling in her shoulders. "You did it."

And she clasps her shaking hands together and prays quietly for the god whose skin blackens with her touch.

* * *

if you're curious, the first time they sleep together is a week before she asks to leave him. That's why he didn't need a purification ritual or anything.


End file.
